


Celebrían

by Zhie



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bunniverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-07 14:22:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1902291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhie/pseuds/Zhie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The residents of the Last Homely House deal with the reality of Celebrian’s capture and return. Written for 'A Long Expected Contest' Sept 2008. Winner, First Place, Het. <br/><img/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Celebrían

**Author's Note:**

> No warnings used because this is about Celebrian, and there is a certain amount of mystery around exactly what happened to her. I can speculate, as the characters do, but I'd speculate in warnings as well. That said, while there is nothing particularly graphic within the piece, it is the reasons for this story existing which would require warnings. Please consider that before you read. Thank you.

“What happened?”

It was difficult for anyone to look at anyone else. Elrond’s gaze was diffused; his eyes dulled of their usual sparkle. He was looking at the ground when he emerged from the room, immediately shutting the door behind him. He did not lift his head when addressed – instead, he continued to stare at the floor, perhaps looking for answers in the silver and blue rugs.

Lindir was there, his head bowed and his focus on his folded hands. He had come fast on Erestor’s heels when the news reached them in the Hall of Fire. The advisor shifted between glancing down the long hallway, ready to chase off anyone who might have appeared, and watching the door of the room Elrond had been in. Now, he was scanning the empty hall once again.

Only Glorfindel appeared brave enough to attempt eye contact. He again repeated the query, softening the words. “Did she tell you anything? How is she?” His demeanor softened as well, changing from the militaristic scrutiny of one wanting answers to the consoling concern of a friend. Gently he reached out and placed his hand upon Elrond’s shoulder.

A whimper, something like a sob muffled by confusion and an intense will not to break down, echoed out into the empty corridor. Erestor swooped in and with Lindir’s assistance ushered Elrond to the stairs. There Lindir was waved away, ordered to guard the lady’s room, a directive no one questioned despite the fact it was issued by Erestor to someone who was clearly not a guard nor one he held jurisdiction over. All the same, Lindir hurried around Glorfindel and fell back as the rest moved quietly down the steps and into a room swiftly unlocked by one of the many keys on the large ring that Erestor always carried with him.

Now they were in a linen room, used for sorting and folding sheets and tablecloths. There were some stools shoved in a corner and a worn bench near the door; Erestor led Elrond to the bench while Glorfindel lit candles, closed the door, and retrieved a stool for himself. “I sent Lindir back to guard the door,” said Erestor in case Elrond had not noticed. The Lord of the house nodded. “Would you like Glorfindel to go back as well?”

Glorfindel might well have argued with Erestor’s sudden takeover of decision making – it should have been Elladan next in charge if Elrond was unable to be. Considering the circumstances, however, it was quite possible that no member of the ruling family was in a state of mind to lead, and that Erestor knew this. The warrior’s contemplations distracted him from the conversation between lord and advisor, so when Erestor cleared his throat and dismissed him from the room, Glorfindel bowed his head slightly and left without argument.

“Have you spoken to your sons since their return?” asked Erestor. It had been Elrohir to bring the news to those anxiously waiting in the Hall of Fire; there was little mention of the lady’s state, only that she was home and alive. The information, or lack thereof, was disconcerting at best.

Elrond’s eyes were closed and he trembled as he tightly grasped the seat of the bench. “My concern has been for my wife since the moment she arrived.” He paused, and asked, “Do you know if my sons are well?”

“Neither had wounds more than bruises and scratches from what I could tell. I spoke with them only briefly; they would tell me only that they wished time alone, that the rest of the traveling party had been slain, and that they had taken care of their mother’s captors.”

“I appreciate knowing that.” Elrond gazed distantly across the room. “My daughter?”

“She is on her way here, accompanied by her grandparents and a large military contingent,” explained Erestor. “This, according to Elrohir. He or Elladan obviously contacted her telepathically.”

“Or my mother-in-law just knew. She has a tendency to...” Elrond looked up to the ceiling for a change of scenery. “I should never have let her go alone.”

“How were you to know? How were any of us to know?” Erestor asked.

Elrond brought his hands up to his face and rubbed his temples. “Part of me wants to know what those hideous creatures did, and part of me knows no matter what it was there is no way for me to go back and stop it or to get revenge on them. It upsets me not knowing, but I know that knowing would do the same.”

“Damned if you do, damned if you do not.”

Elrond nodded in agreement with Erestor’s observation. “I need time alone now, Erestor.”

“I understand.” Erestor stood and stepped to the door. “Would you like me to send your sons to see you?”

For a few minutes Elrond contemplated this, and Erestor almost wondered if he had not been heard until his lord said, “You may tell them where I am, if you wish.”

Erestor bowed his head and left the room. He made sure the door was unlocked before he walked up the stairs.

On his way to the twins’ quarters, Erestor passed the healing rooms. There he found Glorfindel standing guard, with Lindir nowhere to be found. Without asking, his question was answered. “The lady called for Lindir to enter. He is singing to her; I asked if she wished to talk and she said she only wished to hear Lindir sing.” In a lower voice, Glorfindel added, “She permitted no candles lit, no windows open. The room has been plunged into darkness, and the curtains of the canopy are drawn.”

With a frown, Erestor stared at the closed door. Faintly, he could hear Lindir on the other side. He sighed and nodded. “I need to deliver a message, and then someone needs to return to the Hall of Fire. Though the mood is less than cheerful, there is a need for someone to act as host to the guests.”

“Better you than I,” stated Glorfindel. “They always know when I am in a dreary mood. You are the better actor; I, the better guard.”

“I will return when the hall has emptied,” said Erestor, though it hardly needed saying. Glorfindel nodded in return.

As he continued down the hall, Erestor mulled over the situation in his head. If it was easy enough for the attacking orcs to kill the trained soldiers and scouts that made up the traveling party, they could just as easily have killed the lady as well. Sometimes the children and females would be spared and brought back as slaves; this was not the case, as all of the ladies in waiting were slain. Either she was bait, or...

Erestor shook his head and chased the images from his mind. The more he dwelled on it, the worse off he was. She was back, she was safe now, and it was doubtful she would ever be in such a dangerous situation again. If Elrond did not see to it, her mother no doubt would, and her children besides.

Lightly, Erestor tapped on the door despite the fact that it was ajar. Elladan wearily gave him leave to enter, though Erestor only opened the door a little more and peeked inside. Elrohir was sitting on the edge of one of the beds wrapping his hand with linen cloths; Elladan was pacing and still dressed in most of his armor, though his boots had been removed and deposited outside the door. The carpet both inside and out was stained with mud, blood, and entrails. “Your father is in the linen closet at the bottom of the east stairwell.”

“Does he wish to see us?” asked Elrohir.

“That is up to you,” replied Erestor. “The door is unlocked.”

“Thank you for letting us know,” said Elladan. He waited until Erestor pulled the door mostly shut again and then motioned his head toward the door. Elrohir nodded, finished his work on his hand, and followed his brother out into the corridor.

They took the same route that Erestor had. Neither managed eye contact with Glorfindel as they passed him, though Elrohir reached out and gave his mentor a touch on the arm, a gesture of his gratitude towards Glorfindel’s diligence in guarding the room his mother was in. Once the twins were out of sight, Glorfindel bowed his head in disgrace. His failure in not accompanying the lady in the first place had led to the moments they were living in now, and he knew the feeling would stay with him for a long time.

At the bottom of the stairs, Elrohir turned the knob and opened the door halfway. “Good evening, father,” he said to Elrond, who was still sitting on the bench.

Elrond tried his best to play the part of relieved father, but the role of worried husband was still at the forefront. “Come in, Elrohir. Is your brother with you?”

“I am here.” Elladan stepped in after his twin and shut the door. “How are you, father?” he asked as Elrohir sat down on the bench beside Elrond.

“I am... doing as well as can be expected.” He immediately noticed Elrohir’s hand and took hold of it to check it over. “How are you doing?”

“Well enough,” answered Elladan.

“And you, my son?” asked Elrond of Elrohir.

Elrohir shrugged one shoulder. “Tired, I guess,” he said.

Elrond rewrapped the wound on Elrohir’s hand and moved over on the bench enough for Elladan to take a seat, but the elder son preferred to lean against the folding table with arms crossed over his chest. An awkward silence followed, which eventually led to Elrond asking the only question he could think of. “What happened?”

His sons exchanged looks, and saying nothing aloud, said much to each other. It was Elladan who finally answered, though he stared at the floor as he said softly, “I do not want to tell you, and you do not want to know.”

-End-


End file.
